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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23350399">Kitchen Sink Realism... in a Spaceship</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/brionypoisoned/pseuds/brionypoisoned'>brionypoisoned</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Penumbra Podcast</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bad Flirting, Family Dinners, JET IS NOT HEARING THEM RECITE POETRY, Juno and Peter's Unfinished Conversations, Kissing, Other, Peter Nureyev Can't Cook, Peter Nureyev Needs a Hug, Swearing, jupeter, touchy Peter Nureyev</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 04:28:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,045</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23350399</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/brionypoisoned/pseuds/brionypoisoned</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter Nureyev and Juno Steel try to finish a conversation on the Carte Blanche. They just can't do it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>224</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Kitchen Sink Realism... in a Spaceship</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Ok so there's definitely room for interpretation on what exactly Nureyev and Juno are doing in his room for hours at 3 in the morning, but this is MY TAKE ON THEIR CURRENT SEASON 3 RELATIONSHIP DYNAMIC.</p><p>Please do enjoy. And if the mood strikes you to comment, well, I'd be chuffed to bits.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The kitchen of the Carte Blanche had been designed to warm up a small luncheon for a pleasure cruise around Saturn, not to consistently feed a small crew of space criminals. Peter, if he stuck his arms out, could touch nearly every stained and outdated appliance in the room without moving his feet. He went back and forth between staring blankly at the contents of their refrigerator and staring equally blankly at the very small amount of empty counter space in front of him. <i>Figure it out, Nureyev.</i> He thought. <i>You're the best in the business. Surely you can do this.</i> </p><p>	The sound of approaching footsteps interrupted his focus, and Peter peeked his head out of the kitchen to see who was passing by. It, blessedly, was Juno, now walking away from him and towards the shared living space.</p><p>	"Juno!" Peter called out. "Er... may I... speak with you for a moment?" </p><p>	Juno turned, expression, as it always seemed to be when he spoke with Nureyev these days, tentative but hopeful. Peter felt his usual ache at Juno's expression, but powered through. They would work out their stuff when they worked out their stuff—right now he had business to attend to. </p><p>	"Uh yeah?" Juno said, clearing his throat in that cute way he did. "What... what do you need?" </p><p>	Peter ushered Juno into the empty kitchen and paused, trying to determine the best way to get what he wanted. He leaned against the kitchen counter and crossed his arms, careful to keep direct eye contact with Juno as he did so.</p><p>	"I need your assistance... detective." He asked, keeping his voice purposefully gentle and deep, in the way he knew drove Juno wild. For a second it looked like his posturing had worked, Juno leaned towards him like a cat about to rub up against someone's legs. But something snapped Juno out of it and his expression changed. He glanced around the empty kitchen with curiosity, the old private investigator gears kicking in, and he looked up at Peter with a raised eyebrow.</p><p>	"Hold up..." He said, "Isn't it your turn to cook this week? For..."</p><p>	"Please don't say it out loud..." Peter grumbled.</p><p>	"Family dinner!" Juno announced, pointing his finger at Nureyev with a "gotcha!" look. Peter wanted to wipe that grin right off his face. "Oh, no way!" Juno laughed, shaking his head with vehemence. "Me and Rita did our bit! Last week!" </p><p>	"Yes, the significant words in that sentence being 'AND RITA.' You had help! You worked together on those..." he trailed off, trying to remember what meal the two had served.</p><p>	"Traveling Tacos." Juno said, with defiance. </p><p>	"Ah yes. Those." Peter continued. "But Juno," He shifted his tone again, deepening it, "I am all alone, I have no Rita to assist me. Surely you agree that puts me at a disadvantage? How can I feed the whole ship?"</p><p>	"Nuh uh. NOPE!" Juno shook his head. "Don't you pull one of your cons on me, <i>Ransom</i>, I'm not some trillionaire you can sweet talk into cooking your whole dinner for you... it's <i>your turn!</i>"</p><p>	"Juno." Peter pleaded, dropping all pretense. "I have never cooked a meal in a kitchen once in my life. I do not know what I'm doing. I could poison everyone or something, I need <i>help.</i>"</p><p>	"Oh c'mon Nureyev, not once!?" Juno asked, with a laugh. </p><p>	Peter shook his head. "Not. Once."</p><p>	"How!?" Juno asked.</p><p>	"Juno." Peter adjusted his eyeglasses with a deep sigh. "I am not altogether inexperienced at getting other people to purchase meals for me."</p><p>	"But..." Juno spluttered, "Seriously? What about when you were a kid?" </p><p>	Peter snorted. "You need a kitchen to cook in one, Juno. Those were hard to come by on Brahma. I think..." Nureyev got a far away look in his eye, the look he got when one of the long locked doors in his memory began to creak open. He went on. "I think one of my friends lived in a multi-room tent, the kind humanitarians donate and if you wait in line for three months you might qualify for.... there was some kind of a kitchen in there, but his father never let me near it." </p><p>	"Huh." Juno said, not teasing anymore. There wasn't much good you could say about his childhood but even his shitty apartment in Old Town had a kitchen. There wasn't always much to eat in it, but sometimes when his mom was out he and Ben would whip up a packet of noodles and a grilled cheese sandwich and have a nice night. </p><p>	Juno sighed. "Ok, Nureyev, I'll help."</p><p>	Peter smiled, one of his real ones. Juno felt a little flutter in the pit of his stomach.</p><p>~*~</p><p>	They settled on beans and rice. Jet had brought a massive rice cooker with him when he moved in which had proven to be the sole reliable kitchen appliance on the ship, and they had a huge stockpile of beans in case they were stuck in space for a while with limited power. Juno figured it was a recipe that not even Nureyev could mess up, but he still had to run over and stop the thief from pouring UNRINSED RICE into the cooker.</p><p>	"Ok, pal." Juno muttered, measuring out the rice into a strainer. "How're your knife skills?"</p><p>	"Is that... is that a serious question?" Peter asked. </p><p>	"Well... we're not stabbing the onion to death here." Juno said, rubbing his eye in exasperation.  "We're chopping it up into little pieces."</p><p>	"I'll look up how to do it on my comms." Peter muttered, voice haughty. He grabbed a tiny knife from the dish rack and an onion from the fridge and turned to a small open counter space across from the sink. Juno almost corrected him but bit his tongue. After a couple minutes of watching the video Nureyev turned around, returned the small knife, and picked up one of the correct size. Juno smiled to himself and kept working.</p><p>	After the rice was rinsed and placed in the cooker with the correct amount of water, Juno began to open and shut a few cabinets. He let out a little disappointed sigh.</p><p>	"What's that Juno? Am I doing it wrong?" Peter asked, tone a touch nervous. He'd peeled the onion and from the looks of it was about to make the first big cut. Juno felt inexplicably proud of him. </p><p>	"No, I was just thinking, this would be a lot better if we had some hot sauce." Juno said with a shrug.</p><p>	"Oh!" Peter held up a finger with one hand and with the other began to dig through a pocket. Juno watched with interest as Peter pulled at least five packets of hot sauce out from his pocket and laid them on the counter.</p><p>	"Did you just..." Juno raised his eyebrows, a smile spreading across his face. "Hold up, did you steal that hot sauce from a diner?!" He asked.</p><p>	"It's not stealing, they're free on the table."</p><p>	"That is, without question," Juno couldn't hold in a giggle,  "the single brokest thing I've ever seen you do." He said.</p><p>	"What?" Peter asked, confused.</p><p>	"No it's just... you're always at all these rich people parties and you're so comfortable with all these billionaires, but, swiping diner hot sauce? That is some poor-kid shit, right there. Wait!" Juno let out a little gasp. "Did you nab one of those fancy little jars of jelly at that last gala we crashed!?" </p><p>	Peter returned Juno's smile with a glint in his eye.</p><p>	"The pepper jelly?" Peter asked. "From brunch?"</p><p>	"Please tell me you got some! It was so good!" Juno pleaded, excited.</p><p>	"There are four jars in my room." Peter answered. "I took one of the cocktail decanters on the table as well, they were lovely." </p><p>	Juno's face split into a full grin of delight and Peter smiled back. </p><p>	"Oh my god, if I open these drawers are they gonna be full of plastic bags inside of other plastic bags?" Juno asked, laughing. "How many sets of disposable cutlery do you have in those pockets, Nureyev?" </p><p>	"Detective..." Peter set down his knife and turned to look at Juno directly. "Are you making fun of me?"</p><p>	"What? I mean..." Juno fumbled for words. "Oh crap, I'm doing it again aren't I?"</p><p>	"What?" Peter asked.</p><p>	Juno let out a little nervous sigh and looked up into Peter's eyes. "I'm..." An unmistakable blush appeared on Juno's deep brown skin. "Rita always says I get mean when I flirt and I should stop doing that because it's confusing." </p><p>	Peter let out a small, flabbergasted huff. </p><p>	"Juno Steel, do you mean to tell me that you're flirting with me?" he asked.</p><p>	"Oh c'mon, when am I not flirting with you?" Juno scoffed.</p><p>	"Hmm... let me think about that." Peter made an exaggerated thoughtful face. "You have never flirted with me once, detective, in our brief acquaintance." He turned around and cut the onion in half with one decisive chop. Juno actually jumped a little bit. </p><p>	"What?" </p><p>	"Let's see, when we met you <i>tolerated</i> my presence with palpable begrudgement, when we pulled our memorable heist you treated me with visceral distrust and resentment, then we almost died, and then you lied to me with spectacular panache." </p><p>	"Ah... huh." Juno said, shrinking back a bit. He didn't say anything further, just slowly turned around and pulled out a pan to start to fry up the onions and garlic. </p><p>	Peter tried to follow the instructions on the video to cut the onions, but whatever he did didn't look as neat and clean as it was supposed to. He finished with a frustrated sigh and turned around to find Juno heating up some oil over the stove.</p><p>	"You're going to want to get it hot enough that when you swish it around the pan there are little ripples in it." Juno said. "Some people flick a few drops of water in it to see if it sizzles but that always freaks me out so I do it this way."</p><p>	Peter leaned over Juno's shoulder to take a look at the oil. His cheek was just a few inches from Juno's. The smaller man turned his neck carefully to glance up at him, eyes flicking up and down. </p><p>	"You uh... want to give it a swish?" Juno asked, voice soft. Peter turned to look at him, hands held behind his back, taking in Juno's body stance, posture, vulnerability.</p><p>	"Is this... is this another attempt at flirting?" Peter asked, heart rate raising despite all efforts to the contrary.</p><p>	"<i>Yes.</i>" Juno said. "Is it working?" </p><p>	"Hmm." Peter tried to resist it, honestly. He wanted to keep his upper hand, for a minute anyway. But Juno's uncovered eye was so dark and beautiful and his lips were so soft and just <i>right there</i> and Peter lost the fight. He pulled Juno against him, shoved him into the closest corner and kissed him hungrily. Juno kissed back, running his hands in Peter's hair and making the little deep content noises in the back of his throat that drove Peter absolutely wild.</p><p>	"Ahem." A deep voice addressed them from the doorway, and Juno and Peter sprang apart from each other like startled cats, nearly knocking the hot oil off of the stove as they did so.</p><p>	Jet Siquliak took up most of the doorway, staring at the two of them with narrowed eyes and crossed arms. "This is a shared kitchen." He stated, flatly.</p><p>	"Yes, Mr. Siquliak, of course." Peter said, flustered.</p><p>	"C'mon big guy." Juno said. "It's not like we were going to..."</p><p>	But Jet had already continued on his way down the hallway, leaving the two of them alone in the kitchen again, slightly more tousled and breathing considerably heavier than they had been a moment before.</p><p>	"If..." Peter ran his hand through his hair to straighten it, and cleared his throat. "If you'd like to stop by my room sometime tonight, Juno, to, um, try some of that pepper jelly, you are, uh, welcome." </p><p>	"I uh... yeah sure." Juno said, picking up the pan with the hot oil, which was now starting to smoke. "I mean... it was really good jelly."</p><p>	Peter flashed Juno a small, honest smile. </p><p>	"It certainly was, detective."</p>
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